by tracybanaszynski

Waiting It Out

Taking him to bed despite, or maybe because of, his frantic protests. Letting him crawl away and then back to me. Feeling the warmth of his body as he lies on top of me to nurse. Murmuring. Rubbing his head. Rolling him onto the bed. Cradling him close. Feeling his feet kneading my thighs. Watching his arm rise and fall on his ribcage with each breath.  Listening to his breathing slow. Feeling his body quiet. Giving thanks, as he falls asleep, for a healthy and beautiful baby boy.

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